


Save a Horse, Ride a Motorcycle (and its Cowboy)

by punkrockhanzoshimada (tenlittlecock_bites)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Although he'll never admit it, General gayness, Help, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, McCree has a motorcycle and Hanzo is into it, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 23:32:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9629876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tenlittlecock_bites/pseuds/punkrockhanzoshimada
Summary: McCree picked up the old junkyard motorcycle out of pure curiosity and boredom. He didn't really think it would pay off as well as it did.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This got... way out of hand. Also, I tried my best with McCree's accent please be gentle.

McCree honestly didn't know why he got the motorcycle. It was old and rusty, something he picked up from the junkyard across town from his apartment. He couldn't in good conscience afford to even fix the thing up, but he grabbed it anyways, threw it in the back of his truck, and went on his way.

He lamented on this while he pushed his hair back from his face, a few strands falling out of the ponytail he had tied it back into when he had started working, sweat dripping down his face and causing his shirt to stick to his body. The garage was sweltering, and McCree found himself wondering how Torbjörn managed to work in such conditions during the summer. It was barely March and McCree felt like he was inside a furnace.

“You should take a break.”

McCree turned at the sound of a voice coming from the door behind him, sending a bright smile in the direction of the man leaning in the doorway, “S’pose it wouldn't hurt.” he agreed, wiping his hands with a towel and tossing it aside, “I'm almost finished, darlin, then I can take ya for a ride.”

Hanzo scoffed at that, eyeing the bike with disdain, “I'd rather bear the sound of your… country music for hours than spend one second on that thing.” he scoffed, and McCree faked offense, placing a hand over his heart. He knew Hanzo meant no harm with his words, like he (almost) never did with things like these.

“You wound me, Hanzo.” McCree replied, unable to keep the grin off his face, earning himself a sigh and a shake of Hanzo’s head.

“Come inside and take a shower. You smell like a training room floor.”

“And you love it.”

“Hardly.”

\---

It was probably a sign of something bad that McCree spent all his free time on the bike. It was a welcome distraction from everything that was going on, able to just focus on gears and parts and (unfortunately) the heat of the garage. All the time dedicated to his project pulled off when one day, finally, the engine of that motorcycle roared to life.

As McCree celebrated his victory, he heard the door opening again, Hanzo’s soft footsteps sounding behind him before the other man was at his side.

“I am impressed.” he said, genuinely, “Although not surprised.”

“All that's left is I gotta slap a new coat of paint on her.” McCree replied, excitement leaking into his voice, unable to stop grinning, “Then I can take you for a ride.”

“I already told you I wasn't going on that thing.”

“Aw sweetheart come on. What if I painted a fancy dragon on it?”

Hanzo scoffed at that, shaking his head. His silence left room for McCree to grin and lean closer to him, mouth by his ear as he murmured, “And who said I was talkin’ bout a motorcycle ride?” earning him a splutter and a blush from the normally composed man, and a shove to the center of his chest as Hanzo left the garage, followed by the sound of McCree’s chuckle.

\---

Painting the bike had turned out to be… difficult, to say the least. Getting the necessary supplies had been easy. Getting Jack to let him spray paint inside the (somehow very large and spacious) garage was another story.

Eventually, through a lot of coercing and, admittedly, pouting, Jack had relented, and many hours later (he had to be thorough, after all) McCree found himself admiring his handiwork, running a hand along the sleek, black and gold motorbike before picking up his helmet.

He jumped as a body suddenly appeared by his side, not having heard anyone enter. He turned to see Hanzo gazing at the bike, eyes contemplative, a few beats of silence between them before Hanzo spoke.

“I hope you have two helmets, cowboy.”

McCree could feel himself lighting up at the comment, unable to hide his excitement as he replied that he sure did, grabbing the spare helmet (simple black with a small dragon design along the side) and pressing it into Hanzo’s hands, grinning all the while. His heart soared as he earned a very small smile back before Hanzo was pulling the helmet on over his head.

“Now let's go before I change my mind.”

McCree nodded once, pulling his flannel on and putting on his own helmet, casting a reluctant look at his hat. He'd have to do without, since he couldn't have it hanging over his back with Hanzo riding behind him. It was a good sacrifice, McCree figured, looking over at Hanzo as he examined the motorcycle. McCree hated being on leave, missed the action and the other agents of Overwatch, but seeing Hanzo wearing the helmet McCree had picked out for him along with a simple hoodie under a leather jacket (which McCree marveled at his ability to wear in this heat) and jeans that left… little to the imagination made it almost completely worth it.

As Hanzo gave him a clearly annoyed look, that McCree could feel even through the tinted visor, he kicked a leg over the bike, starting it up and patting the seat behind him, grinning at Hanzo before pulling his own visor down.

“Now hold on tight, darlin! This thing’s got a bit of a kick!” he called back over the sound of the engine as he felt Hanzo settle in behind him, hands resting gingerly on his waist. He felt Hanzo sigh and the hands went away, replaced by arms wrapping around his torso (still loosely).

If McCree sped out of the garage faster than necessary just to feel those arms tighten around him, well, no one could blame him now could they?

McCree went through a mental list of places to stop as he sped around street corners, Hanzo’s arms tightening sending Jesse’s heart pounding every time, finally deciding on his favorite place in this damned city.

“Where are we going?” he heard Hanzo ask, voice muffled because of their helmets, nearly swallowed up completely by the wind.

“You'll see!” McCree called back as he made a turn to head towards the foothills, taking the dusty, empty roads at breakneck speed, Hanzo pressed flush against his back and arms crushing McCree’s ribs a little.

They finally came to a stop at the top of one of the hills, the yellowed grass and dirt surrounding a dilapidated wooden gazebo. The view beyond their little slice of land was something to marvel at, though, the city skyline sparkling in the distance in the late spring sunlight.

McCree pulled off his helmet and took in a breath of the fresh air, smiling, “Ain't it beautiful, Hanzo?” he asked, turning to see the other man removing the ribbon from his hair, inky black hair falling down to his shoulders, concealing the undercut he had gotten shortly after they arrived at the city, and right before getting the piercing that sat on the bridge of his nose (both things that had made McCree want to drag Hanzo into the nearest room to do very inappropriate things).

He didn't realize he was staring until Hanzo was grabbing him by the flannel, pulling him forward. McCree stumbled, then found his footing as Hanzo’s hands went from grabbing his shirt to slipping into the unbuttoned garment, gripping at his waist with slim fingers. He looked down and Hanzo was glaring up at him with a look in his eyes that made McCree’s heart pick up pace.

“Well hello to you too.” McCree said, dazed and confused.

“Shut up, Jesse.” Hanzo replied before grabbing at his hair and pulling him down into a kiss, their lips colliding messy, but then the contact quickly turned heated as they found their rhythm, McCree making a sound low in his throat as his hands found Hanzo’s hips.

He couldn't help the moan that slipped out as Hanzo bit at his bottom lip, taking that opportunity to lick into his mouth, fingers tangling in McCree’s thick hair and _pulling_ before breaking their kiss, both of them flushed and breathing heavy.

“If I didn't know better I'd think you're tryin’ to kill me, Hanzo.” McCree panted, Hanzo simply grinning in reply before they were kissing again.

McCree tightened his hands on Hanzo’s hips before lifting him off the ground completely, savoring the surprised sound the other man made before lithe legs were locked around his waist.

“Don't do that without warning.” Hanzo growled and McCree merely chuckled, nipping at Hanzo’s jaw, feeling the man shiver in his hold.

“Where's the fun in that?” he teased before pressing their bodies closer together, mouth working at the skin of Hanzo’s neck, grinning as his head tilt back to grant McCree more access to that unmarked (for now) skin.

Without breaking contact, McCree started making his way towards the gazebo, pressing Hanzo against one of the wooden support beams, sucking a mark into his skin and savoring the frankly gorgeous sound that it earned him.

“Jesse.” Hanno choked out as McCree bit down on his skin, fingers carding into his hair and pulling to get the other man’s mouth off of him.

McCree was so busy admiring Hanzo’s flushed cheeks and bruised lips in that moment that he almost missed Hanzo’s next words telling him they needed to get back.

“Why's that darlin?” McCree asked, voice raw with want in a way that visibly affected Hanzo.

“Because if you intend on fucking me I'd like for us to have a bed.” Hanzo explained, before pausing and giving a thoughtful tilt of his head that made McCree want to kiss him even more, “Or just the couch, if you'd prefer. I'm not that picky.”

McCree groaned softly at that, hands tightening on Hanzo’s hips, “I'm going to ride as fast as a bat outta hell.” he warned and Hanzo just smirked.

“Better get to it then, cowboy.”

\---

McCree barely spared any time to kick the apartment door shut behind him before he was tugging off his helmet, Hanzo dropping his own to the floor as McCree was grabbing his waist and backing him towards the couch, capturing his lips in a searing kiss before murmuring against them, “Great call on the couch, sweetheart.”

Before Hanzo could make another comment, McCree was getting that damned jacket/hoodie combo off of Hanzo, not even bothering with removing the simple cotton t-shirt underneath, instead pushing it up enough to bare Hanzo’s chest.

“Well I'll be.” McCree practically purred at the sight of the metal bars through both of Hanzo’s nipples, moving his flesh hand up far enough to tweak at one of the piercings, causing the other man to gasp and grab tight to McCree’s flannel.

“I lost a bet.” Hanzo explained at McCree’s amused and quizzical glance before the cowboy’s eyes were lowering back down to Hanzo’s chest, eyes growing dark with desire, honey brown irises near invisibly from his pupils being blown wide. Without another word, he leaned down to take on of Hanzo’s nipples into his mouth, humming as Hanzo let out a choked off moan, hands flying to his hair.

McCree worked at the single nipple, flicking it with his tongue, scraping his teeth on the sensitive flesh, until Hanzo was shaking and finding it harder and harder to hold back his moans. McCree released him with an obscene popping sound, straightening back up so that Hanzo had to look up at him.

“You should get those pants off, Hanzo.” McCree suggested, eyes raking slowly over Hanzo’s body as the archer quickly stripped down to boxer briefs, tossing his shirt over McCree’s face after he pulled it off, a grin on his face as it was removed and tossed elsewhere. A chuckle rumbled through McCree’s chest before he was backing Hanzo onto the couch.

The archer barely had a moment to settle into the cushions before McCree was on him, straddling his lap and holding his face, thumbs hooked under his jaw as he kissed him slowly and deeply until Hanzo was melting into the couch.

“I want to ride you, cowboy.” Hanzo growled against McCree’s lips, teeth nipping at the already bruised skin there.

McCree found his brain short-circuiting at Hanzo’s words, not processing until he was being flipped around, Hanzo now straddling _him_ with a predatory grin.

“I'd be a fool to turn down an offer as fine as that.” McCree managed to say, hands ghosting along Hanzo’s thighs before they were being pushed away.

“Your lube, Jesse.” Hanzo said, rolling his hips in a way that made it hard for McCree to answer.

“Bedroom. End of the hall, ah, nightstand drawer.” he managed, and Hanzo gave him a searing kiss before leaving his lap, McCree quickly turning to look behind him as Hanzo made his way down the hall. He'd never seen a nicer ass in all his days.

Once Hanzo was back in front of him, the archer wasted no time in getting McCree stripped down completely, the intense look in his eyes mirroring one McCree had become very familiar with in the field, watching Hanzo scout out his target and take them out with a single, precise shot from his bow.

McCree was so damnably into that look it made it hard to breathe.

Hanzo straddling his lap again (now completely naked) took him out of his reverie, hand moving to the archer’s hips as Hanzo popped open the lid to the little bottle of lube, McCree reaching a hand out to stop him before he could squeeze some out onto his fingers.

“Let me, darlin.” McCree said, taking the bottle from Hanzo’s hand, unable to read the look on his face before the other man was nodding and bracing his hands against the back of the couch. McCree was careful to slick up the fingers on his flesh hand generously with the lube. He ran the other down the curve of Hanzo’s back, the other man shivering from the contact of the cool metal against heated skin, before grabbing at his ass. McCree circled a finger around Hanzo’s entrance, pressing a kiss to his shoulder and murmuring for him to relax before slowly easing the finger inside of him.

“Christ.” McCree breathed, wiggling the finger slightly, Hanzo’s breath hitching in McCree’s ear, “You’re so tight, Hanzo.”

“It has been… a while.” Hanzo said, voice breathless and strained. His hips shifted slightly, pressing further back onto McCree’s finger, a quiet moan escaping him. McCree decided he want to hear a _lot_ more of those sounds.

After Hanzo relaxed, one finger turned in two, then three. Hanzo had been about to protest the third, but then his eyes had trailed down to where McCree’s cock, persistently ignored by the cowboy, lay hard against his stomach, and he had agreed that it was going to be… necessary.

“Ready, darlin?” McCree asked as he slowly pumped his fingers in and out of Hanzo’s ass, teeth scraping against his jaw.

“Yes.” Hanzo replied, voice a desperate whine that positively delighted McCree (and turned him on a whole lot more, if that was even possible), rocking back against McCree’s fingers, “Please, Jesse.”  
McCree slowly pulled his fingers out of Hanzo, kissing the archer and muffling the noise of protest Hanzo made at suddenly being empty. McCree quickly grabbed the bottle of lube and generously slicked his cock, groaning into the heated kiss he was locked in with Hanzo, his free hand tightening to a bruising grip on the other man’s hip.

“Hurry up.” Hanzo growled against McCree’s lips, biting at his bottom lip. McCree growled softly at the action, lining himself up and slowly pressing into Hanzo, unable to stop the long, low moan from leaving his mouth as he was slowly surrounded by tight heat.

“Jesus.” McCree breathed, hand gently stroking up and down Hanzo’s back, carefully watching his face for any sign of discomfort as he slowly and carefully pressed into him until McCree’s hips were fit snug against that perfect ass.

“You ok, darlin?”

“If you don’t move now--” Hanzo started, but cut off with a loud moan as McCree’s pulled his hips back then snapped back in deep. McCree could feel nails digging into his shoulders, but he ignored the sting, repeating the motion, punching another moan from Hanzo’s mouth.

They quickly settled into a steady rhythm, Hanzo meeting each of McCree’s upward thrusts with a downward movement of his own until McCree was holding him completely still, fucking up into him with abandon, causing Hanzo to curse and drag his nails down McCree’s chest.

“Jesse!” Hanzo moaned, throwing his head back and arching his back, silky strands of black hair falling back over his shoulders, McCree taking in the gorgeous sight before taking the opportunity to lean forward and take one of Hanzo’s nipples into his mouth, sucking hard as he tangled fingers in Hanzo’s hair, giving a sharp tug.

McCree scraped his teeth against Hanzo’s nipple as the archer choked out a warning, tailing searing kisses up his chest to his neck, pulling his hair harder to get his head further back, biting down on the spot where Hanzo’s pulse raced sporadically. The archer cried out as he came, tightening around McCree and nearly making it impossible for him to move, McCree coming soon after, moaning into Hanzo’s throat.

They sat there for a few beats after they came down from their collective orgasms, the only sounds in the apartment their heavy breathing as they tried to catch their breath. Eventually, McCree slowly pulled out of Hanzo, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before picking him up, ignoring the sound of protest it earned him, before laying him down on the bed. He disappeared briefly, then returned with a damp cloth and two bottles of water, wiping himself and Hanzo down before plopping down onto the bed with a bounce, chuckling at the annoyed look Hanzo gave him.

“If I had known that a bike woulda made you get all hot n’ bothered for me I woulda bought one ages ago.” McCree teased, throwing an arm around Hanzo’s shoulders and pulling him snug against his side.

“It wasn’t the damn bike.” Hanzo grumbled, draping an arm across McCree’s waist as he snuggled against his side, “Don’t be ridiculous.” he added, still grumbling, but McCree could hear the hint of fondness in his voice.

“Sure it wasn’t.” McCree said, disbelief clear in his tone. Hanzo simply rolled his eyes and buried his face against McCree’s neck.

“Go to sleep, cowboy. I’m tired.”


End file.
